


Abrams Early Life

by SnowTiefling



Series: Abrams [5]
Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Gangs, Gen, human supremicist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 15:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowTiefling/pseuds/SnowTiefling
Summary: This series is based on Abrams' early life, before he earned all his 'ware and became a shadowrunner proper. We start with is first crime, and this his first weapon, and then his first run. I'm not sure if I'll dig into anything else from that part of his life but we'll see if the mood ever strikes! :D





	1. His First Crime

“Hey Jason man, when you gonna hook up with me’n the boys? The Breakers could use ya man.” A boy who Jason used to call Richard who now only went by Axe Head called out to him as he walked by. The ork was only a few years older than Jason but the streets and the natural quickened aging of orks made him look to be in his late 20s, not his late teens. 

“You know I can’t Axe Head” Jason replied, using his real name would only make his once friend angry, and piss off the other gangers near him “You know I promised my mom before she died, yeah? Going to work in construction.” 

The ork just spat and shook his head, his voice getting angry. “You ain't gonna do drek, what you gonna do? Work for some breeder pay’n you half rates cause you a trog? You roll with us, you got family again omae, you got someone at your back ,you get money, you get girls, you get respect. You work for some breeder you might as well start flat backing like a bitch.”

Jason clenched resisted the urge to clench his fist. “Sorry Axe Head. Gotta make my mom proud.” He turned away, ignoring the continued taunts from the gangers. He would make his mom proud, his dad too, wherever he was. He could still hear his mom's voice, repeating over and over again the same message. Just because he was a troll didn’t mean he had to be a monster like people thought. He didn’t have to be violent. He didn’t have to join a gang. He could do The Right Thing. 

He knew he couldn’t run with a gang, he had seen what their uncontrolled violence and turf wars could cause. How many of his friends had died from stray bullets or from just being on the wrong street at the wrong time? No. He couldn’t be part of that. And he had just lost another friend to the gangs, Richard. His old friend was dead now, and only Axe Head was left. Fresh blood for the streets. He kept walking. He knew that if he just went to the Hardware Shack near the docks sometimes small companies would pick up workers, companies that couldn’t afford a rigger and drones, but needed muscle. At 14 he was already 6 foot tall, thickly muscled as any human. Tough. It was good to be a troll, at least physically. Maybe he’d make enough nuyen to get a room for a few nights, and a good meal. 

Life had been tough since his mom had died nearly a half a year ago. The little she had left had run out within a few months, even eating frugally. He hadn’t resorted to stealing, yet. Dumpster diving and sleeping in alleys, occasionally having to scare off some drug addled bum so he could get some sleep. That was his life. The streets were ungentle, which only made him tougher, stronger. Strong enough to earn some nuyen maybe.

Jason slowed as he rounded a corner, over the din of the city he could now clearly hear the sounds of violence, and that made him wary. On the street in front of him lay the bleeding corpse of Old Roger, an ork, he worked as a handyman. Blocking an alley were a group of humans, all wearing gang signs. Purifiers, human supremacists, violent, mostly made up of bored middle class kids from the better parts of town. The kind of people that figured a trip into The Pit to kill a few trolls or orks would be ignored by the police. They were right, the cops were paid to keep The Pit from spilling into the nicer parts of the city, not to keep the ugliness from getting in. Jason stopped, and looked around quickly for a way around the gangers before they noticed him. He spotted a way out, but then he heard a sound that made his heart break. Old Roger had a bunch of kids, and even more grandkids. There was a baby crying in the alley. 

Frag.

“Go ahead, comfort your little crapper. Tell the little brat that daddy and mommy will protect him.” He heard and ugly voice, slurred and raspy, echo from the alley. The other gangers laughed. Jason clenched his fist. They were all looking down the alley. At their prey. Old Roger’s youngest daughter, her husband, and their baby. Jason could just barely make out their voices, he didn’t remember their names. It didn’t matter. 

Old Roger’s big claw hammer lay just out of reach of dead hand. He had probably died with it trying to protect them. Jason walked over, slowly, thankful the Purifiers were distracted. The hammer was so light in his hand. His heart raced, beating faster than ever. The Purifier in the back had his hood up, the white hoodie of the Purifiers, the black sleeveless vest showing their gangs symbol, a burning troll skull. Jason was sweating, slightly, he swallowed. The baby cried again. The gangers laughed. The hammer came down and the white hood became red, the thud of a body. 

Jason felt sick. Jason had failed his mother. Jason looked into the eyes of the other 3 purifiers as they turned at once to look at the 6 foot tall troll. His stomach rolled, and he swallowed, wrenching the blood soaked hammer out of the skull of dead boy. 

“You’re a dead fragging trog!” The gravelly ugly voice shouted, and Jason didn’t have time to think anymore. 

“RUN!” He shouted, and Old Roger’s family looked him in the eye, nodded, and took off. He barely had time to notice that both adults were bleeding, wounded. They had already been hurt. 

“I’m sorry momma.” He whispered, as the first ganger swung at him with a baseball bat covered in razorwire. He backed up, barely avoiding the hit. Another came at him with a machete. He dove back, circled, their leader just laughed. “Gonna take your horns home with me, mount’em on my wall. You stain. You ugly fraggin stain!” Jason swallowed, his eyes narrowing. Nothing but survival and anger in his mind. 

He lunged forward, his greater reach letting him tag the baseball bat swinging ganger in the arm. The boy was barely older than him, his brain briefly registered. There was a sharp cry of pain, and the baseball bat fell to the concrete. Jason felt burning along his shoulder, the machete had sliced into him, a warm rush of blood. He kicked the boy in front of him, snatching up the baseball bat and spun, swinging wildly at the machete ganger. 

She spat in his face, he growled, She dove in dodging his awkward swing, cutting into his leg. He fell forward, the baseball bat clipping her on the side of the face, razor wire ruining her ear. 

The gunshot echoed against the buildings. Jason felt the bullet hit him in the back, tearing through him. It hurt. He dropped to the ground. He felt a rough hand jerk his head back. 

“That was my girl you just hit, trog. Now you die.” He saw the knife out of the corner of his eye. Felt it bite into his neck. Fire on his nerves as it opened up his throat. Coldness as he fell to the street. Dull thuds as the 3 gangers lit into him with their boots, the baseball bat, the hammer. He felt a bone break, and another. Their laughter and curses summoning the last darkness. “I’m sorry momma, so sorry.” he tried to whisper, but just air bubbles in blood came out.

He heard the gunshots, the shouts of the gangers, heavy boots. There was a warmth, something was in him, he felt an energy tickling along his nerves and in his blood. 

If this is what death feels like, Jason was happy. He relaxed. He’d explain to his mom soon why he did what he did. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad.

He opened his eyes and blinked, the light hurt. Everything hurt. “Boys awake chummers!” He heard someone say, female, voice was fuzzy. He blinked again. He tried to sit up, and groaned, everything hurt so much.

“Hey, take it easy there now.” The woman again, he looked to the side, human. Scarred. Guns, sword. Chromed up, cybernetics. He swallowed and closed his eyes. “I died.” He whispered.

“Yeah, maybe. But it didn’t stick. Whats your name kid?” She asked, her cold metal hand touching his shoulder.

“Jason McBride.” He answered, weakly. 

“Good, you remember your name. I’m Red Steel, this is my crew.” Jason opened his eyes and looked around. “This is Kodiak, he healed you up good.” A tall, tattooed human nodded at him. “This is Nevermore.” The dark eyed elf woman frowned at him, her arms crossed. “And this is Panzerfaust.” The massive troll grinned down at him, he was also cybered up. 

“You’re Krista’s boy, aint ya? Krista McBride?” The troll rumbled at him and he nodded. “She was a good woman, made the best pies for the church. Sorry to hear about her passing.” Jason just nodded, a weak thanks falling from his lips.

Red Steel looked at her team mate and nodded, then back to Jason. “Now, we saved your hide back there. Mind telling us what the frag you were doing taking on 3 Purifiers by yourself?” 

“Four. I killed one. Hammer.” He shook, his stomach roiling again. “Old Roger, he was dead. His family.” He waved his hand towards the side. “Trapped. Baby. They were going to kill them. Couldn’t let that happen.” He felt tears well up, and he let them. “Took the hammer, smashed one in the back of the head. Did my best.”

He didn’t see the look that passed between the shadowrunners. He just felt the heavy hand of Panzerfaust on his shoulder. “You did the right thing kid. Your mom would be proud.”


	2. His First Gun

“Wake up boy. Its time.” Panzerfaust’s deep voice rumbled into Jason’s ears and drug him out of his sleep. He sat up from the makeshift cot he called a bed and blinked the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. Across the room form him stood Panzerfaust, one of the shadowrunners who had saved him from death at the hands of The Purifiers, a human supremacist gang. His fingers reached up and touched his throat, a rough pink scar had formed there where a ganger had slit his throat open. He had died, or damn near it, and Panzerfaust and his crew had saved him, healed him, and taken him in.

But there was a price. He was learning that in the shadows there was always a price. Despite his intentions to stay on the legal side of things as best as he was able as one of the SINless living in The Pit, his run in with The Purifiers had removed that option. He had killed. He no longer felt bad about it, like he had at the time. He had saved 3 lives.

“Yes sir.” Jason said, getting out of bed. Panzerfaust had told him the price he’d have to pay for room and board, and he had agreed. To work for him, cleaning weapons, maintaining his gear, keeping the small apartment they would share clean.

And to train. To become stronger, tougher, to become a warrior like him. He had some basic knowledge of how to fight, but Panzerfaust was pushing him. The other troll had cybernetic limbs, augmentations that made him faster and stronger. Eventually, once he had earned enough cred, Jason supposed he would also have chrome. “What do you want me to do today sir?” He asked his mentor and employer.

“Ever held a gun before?” Panzerfaust asked, crossing his arms. Jason shook his head. “Well, its time to learn.” Panzerfaust motioned and Jason followed. There on the small table in what passed for a living room was a small grey box. “Its yours. Open it.”

Jason reached down and opened the grey case, inside was a thick heavily constructed pistol. “Its a Colt, good brand. Heavy, built in laser sight for improved accuracy.” Jason nodded, picking it up gingerly. “Its been modified, of course, had it taken care of for you. Should be comfortable in your grip now, trolls hands are bigger than humans, gotta make sure any guns you get have the right grip and trigger guard or you just won’t be able to use them.” Jason examined the pistol slowly, taking in the rubberized grip, the solid construction, the grey and black coloring. “There are rules about holding a gun Jason. The first is what you are holding is an instrument of death. Never point it at something or someone you don’t want to put a bullet in. The second is you never put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to shoot it. Accidents happen, and good people die every day because someone squeezed too hard when they didn’t mean to. The third is always know your target, and know whats on the other side. You shoot someone not in decent armor and your friend is standing behind him, guess what happens, your bullet goes through your target and into your friend. Or some unlucky bastard that didn’t deserve a bullet. You understand kid?”

Jason nodded. “Don’t point it at what you don’t want dead, don’t play with the trigger if you aren’t about to squeeze it, and be careful where you shoot unless you want to let a stray bullet kill an innocent.” Jason nodded and looked at Panzerfaust. “I haven’t done enough to earn the cred for a gun, why’d you buy me one?”

Panzerfaust shook his head “I didn’t, just had it modified. Its yours, it was from the moment you made the choice to take on those Purifiers. And you know to respect it, its the gun that put a bullet in your back.” Jason looked up, he did know the gun, and how much a bullet from it could hurt. It had also left a scar, right under his shoulder blade.

“Red Steel has a place we can practice. She’ll be there, so will the rest of the crew. You have a lot to learn. We’ll teach you.”

Jason nodded and put his gun down. He would learn, everything he had to in order to survive his new life. He just hoped he had what it took to pay whatever price the shadows would demand of him.


	3. His First Run

“Are you sure we should bring the kid along? He’s still green.” Red Steel asked, looking over at her fellow street sam and team mate Panzerfaust. “This will be his first real job, don’t want him to piss himself and get us all fragged.”

“He’s ready Red. He’s taken to that AK we got him like it was second nature, the combat sims we put him through he did alright in.” Panzerfaust reassured his friend. “He won’t frag up.”

“And if he does, I’ll put him out of our misery.” Muttered Nevermore, looking disgusted with the whole idea as always. Panzerfaust glared at the decker and shook his head. “If he does, he’ll answer to me if he isn’t already dead.”

Hours later, a young Jason McBride sat in the back of the large panel van next to his mentor Panzerfaust, his new armored jacket made his elbows itch, and the quiet disdainful glare that the elf woman called Nevermore had settled onto him made him uncomfortable. In the driver's seat was a man that Jason had never met that just called himself Max, and the hirsute dwarf Kodiak and their other team mate Red Steel were traveling in her car, taking a different route to the meet. Paranoia, he had learned, ran deep in the behavior of those in the shadows. 

Jason ran through what he knew about the job. Their target was a small suite of data pertaining to a new designer pet. Unfortunately, the information was kept in a guarded biotech lab, and security was stiff. The team would do their best to infiltrate as deep into the complex as they could, escorting Nevermore to the offline terminal so she could jack the data. They had “acquired” some fake credentials as a group of bodyguards escorting a company executive on a surprise tour. That was the plan anyway.

An hour later, that plan had gone sideways, upside down, and backwards in so many ways it had left Jason’s head spinning. “Contact on the right!” Panzerfaust shouted, laying down a hail of bullets down the right corridor, the sound of his assault rifle barking loudly in the confined space. Nevermore was hunched over the computer terminal, eyes glazed over as she worked inside the machine to find their paydata. Jason took aim down the left corridor and squeezed off 3 shots from his AK in rapid succession, making the corporate security guard that had poked his head out from around the corner duck back quickly. “We’re sitting ducks here!” Red growled, flicking a grenade down the same corridor Jason had just fired down, bouncing it off of the wall and into the lap of the security around the corner. It went off making Jason’s ears ring and spraying the hallway with blood and meat. “Out of stunners, only got fraggers left. What the hell is taking Never so long in there?” Jason looked down the right corridor as Panzerfaust reloaded his rifle. 

“CONTACT!” He felt the scream pull out of his throat as he opened fire on the security team that had rounded the corner, his shots hit the lead man square in the chest before he could get into cover inside the side office, a small round object fell from the dead man's hand, landing at the security guards feet, rolling in Jason's direction. Jason wasn’t fast enough and the flash of light blinded him, making his field of vision go white and then black, his ears ringing. There was a dull thudding barely audible through the din of his damaged eardrums, and he fell back, and then down, blinking. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from it. He felt a touch on his shoulder and a surge of chemicals entered into his bloodstream. 

He opened his eyes and Kodiak was sitting in front of him, panting. “No time to hibernate.” The dwarf growled at him. “Now get up little tank, get up and shoot!”

So Jason did. The next few minutes became a blur. At some point Nevermore came back to her body, gasping for air, nodding at the team. Shells fell from guns in a steady rhythm of falling brass. Kodiak summoned a bear spirit that ripped a man in 2 before it faded back into the astral. Red’s sword flashed out and blood sprayed across once white walls. 

A bullet, and then another, chewed through Jason’s armor. He grit his teeth and kept moving. Stopping would kill him. He couldn’t stop. He focused, and men in front of him died.

Then they were speeding off into the night, back to meet the Johnson. Back to get paid. Panzerfaust nodded at him, even Nevermore didn’t seem to glower at him with so much malice. And then the drugs wore off, and he crashed out, blackness taking over everything.


End file.
